


How To Bring Somebody Back From The Dead

by eleuther



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bringing somebody back from the dead, Character Death, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentions of an Underworld, Psychological Horror, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 14:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20837279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleuther/pseuds/eleuther
Summary: Roger doesn't think he can do this without Freddie.





	How To Bring Somebody Back From The Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is something different than what I normally do. I actually got the idea from a post on the Instagram account @/hgk477 that was written by a Reddit user and then posted there. There are a lot of steps in this guide (90 to be exact) and I definitely didn't write all of them. Some are incorporated into the text, some are in italics. You'll know when they're there. I've been on and off writing this for about a month, and just finished it this afternoon. It's properly edited, unlike many of my others. I'm probably going to post this on my Tumblr @alldead-ontime as well, so feel free to look there! Enjoy!
> 
> TW: Mentions of Character Death (obviously)

**How to Bring Someone Back from the Dead**

_Step 1: Make sure it wasn’t their time to die._

Roger was sure it wasn’t Freddie’s time. Positive, in fact. He’d caught an illness that ended up killing him, slowly and painfully. No, it had not been Freddie Mercury’s time to die. 

It had been three months and Roger was at his limit; Brian had already almost fallen off the deep end and John was becoming more and more distant as the days went by. He was going to lose them both too, and that was going to push him over. He had to save them all. 

Step four said to wait until late spring. It was a long wait, surely, but it gave him time to get the necessary items together. 

_Two coats, a quarter, a white rose, a blanket, a flashlight, extra batteries, lots of food and water, and an object of importance to the deceased._

All were fairly simple to gather, though finding something of importance to Freddie had been harder. Roger had searched through his closet relentlessly, knowing damn well there should be something important there but he couldn’t seem to find anything. He’d had a mental breakdown that day, almost deciding to give up and let his family fall apart around him. 

He finally managed to think of something, only he didn’t have it. Mary Austin had kept all of his belongings in Garden Lodge. Roger _needed_ this item. As much as he didn’t want to step foot into Freddie’s home without seeing the man himself, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He just hoped Mary would let him have it. 

*

The trip to Garden Lodge was painful; he had to pull over to catch his breath multiple times, and every time he was reminded of the moment Peter Freestone called and told him it was too late. 

When he arrived he found the gate locked and the code changed. He felt tears well again but swallowed them down. 

_For Freddie, do this for Freddie._

Roger pressed the buzzer on the keypad. He waited for a long moment, hope draining from him every second he didn’t receive an answer. After what felt like millennia of waiting there was a response, asking for his name and business. He cried as he told them, promising that this was just a quick visit to speak to Ms. Austin. 

They let him through, though there was a moment with no response that he knew was a hesitancy to let a hysterical man into the home. 

He approached the door nervously; none of them had stepped foot here since Mary took over the place. He hoped she’d let him borrow the photo. Well, have the photo. 

Her husband answered the door with a tight smile. Roger was led into the sitting room. He declined the tea, saying that he would only be staying a few moments. Mary appeared soon after.

“Hello, Roger.” He could hear the pain in her voice and knew that she was just as hurt as him. 

“Mary,” he replied with a smile. He hoped it was warm but knew it probably wasn’t. “How are you?” 

“What do you want, Roger?” Her voice was hard then; he knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I need a photo. It’s one of Fred and me, at Kensington. Please, Mary, I promise I - I'll bring it back if this doesn’t work. But I need it, please.”

“If what doesn’t work?” She sounded confused now, and slightly concerned. 

“I - I don’t know how to explain it. But Freddie loved that photo, the one he kept on his nightstand. I thought I had a copy too but I don’t know where it is.” 

“Roger, tell me what’s going on. I won’t give it to you until you do.” She looked around nervously, as if he would hurt her for it. He wouldn’t.

He thinks he wouldn’t, anyway. 

“It’s hard to explain, Mary, but please! I promise this’ll be good for all of us,” he said, the desperation in his voice becoming apparent now. 

She looked at him for a long moment, wondering if this was really worth it, or if she should just kick him out and get a restraining order. 

She could never do that to him. Freddie would never forgive her. She sighed and nodded, motioning for him to stay put. Mary went upstairs and grabbed the photo from the box in her closet. 

Truthfully, she loved the photo. Both men looked incredibly happy despite the difficult situations they lived in. As always, her eyes drifted to Freddie. Her heart hurt to see his beautiful smile, knowing she would never see it again. She glanced back at the young Roger in the photo and sighed. 

“Here it is,” she said, coming down the last step.

Roger’s head shot up from where it’d been laying in his hands. Mary handed him the photo, watching him stare at it for a moment. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for her to hear. She definitely didn’t expect him to hug her. They’d had a sort of friendship through Freddie, but it would never be the same as when he was around. 

Watching Roger leave, Mary hoped he’d be alright. 

*

He waited another two weeks before leaving. He hadn’t wanted to, actually planning to leave a week before he did. But Brian had called him in a state, and then Roger had almost chickened out. He was essentially going to the afterlife, after all, without ever dying. 

The day he decided to leave, he wrote three notes. One to his wife, one to his kids, and one to Brian and John. They all said a variation of the same thing; he needed some time, he constantly felt on the edge, like life was meaningless without Freddie and he needed to have some time alone. He sugar-coated the letter to his kids, and hinted at what he was really doing to Brian and John. 

_Enter any forest. The denser the better. Walk until the sun goes down._

He gets to the edge of the forest and sits in his car for a moment. He looks at his bag, and then the picture of Freddie he kept on the dash, before nodding. He could do this.

Roger walks into the forest without hesitation. It was already nearing sunset when he got there, and it doesn’t take long until it’s too dark to see. When it is, he looks to the left and sees the glow the instructions said would be there. He begins to walk towards it. He thinks of Freddie the whole time. He knows that the instructions said he should, but it almost feels like he doesn’t have a say in the matter. 

_Say aloud how much you missed them and why you want them back._

Roger thinks it’ll feel a little strange talking aloud to the forest. 

“God, Freddie, I miss you - we all miss you. So, so much. We need you back. Brian is falling off the deep end and John is slowly drifting. And I don’t think I can do this whole life thing without you much longer. I need you to come back to me.” 

His voice is tight as he finishes. Strangely, he doesn’t feel like he’s talking to the air. He thinks Freddie can hear him. Or maybe it’s hope. Regardless, it keeps him walking until he reaches the little glow - except suddenly the glow is gone. He almost panics for a moment, before remembering the instructions. 

He reaches into his bag for the flashlight. He flicks the switch on, the sound loud in the silent forest. He lays down on the forest floor, surprisingly soft for a place so rocky while he was walking. 

Roger closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep. He’s exhausted, and normally he’d have been asleep in seconds. But this isn’t normal, and no matter how much he tells himself to not be afraid, he can’t help it. He does his best to ignore the silence, and thinks of the reason he’s doing this.

_Do not be afraid. If you’ve made it this far, then the forest is on your side. It will not let you be harmed._

*

When Roger wakes the sun is up. It takes him a moment to remember what he’s doing, but when he does he jumps up. He turns the flashlight off quickly and tries to remember the next step. 

_You will be standing just outside of a fairy ring. Do not enter it._

‘Right,’ he thinks. He knows the next step is to take out the food he brought, and thank god for that because he’s starving. 

He eats a bit but leaves the rest, before entering the ring. The quarter sits heavily in his pocket, like a reminder that now is the time to use it. He places the quarter on the ground, _tails up_. 

“I’m coming, Freddie,” he mumbled as he watches the quarter sink into the ground. He shrugs on one of the coats he’s brought, and then closes his eyes. 

_Imagine that you are sinking into the ground. Do not open them until you smell smoke._

It takes what feels like hours before he smells smoke. When he does, he sees a dark tunnel leading to seemingly nowhere. He almost begins to walk forward, before remembering step twenty-four: _replace the batteries in your flashlight._

Roger starts the walk forward. The tunnel is cold, and dark. There’s no one around for ages. He feels like he’s losing his mind, the longer he’s alone. A part of him questions whether this journey was the right choice. 

‘Of course it is,’ the voice in his head says. ‘It’s too late to turn around, anyway.’

He sees a house, eventually. He wants to keep going, not waste any time stopping like the instructions said. But he also remembers that passing the house will get him stuck down the road. 

He knocks on the door. A dark-haired woman opens it. 

There is no greetings. They make eye contact briefly, before he diverts his eyes. 

_There’s something wrong with her eyes. Do not stare._

“Do you have something pretty for me?” she asks. Her voice is sickly sweet; vastly contrasting the thought that this woman probably isn’t human. 

Roger nods with a smile, grabbing the white rose from his bag. He hands it to her, and she invites him in. 

“Would you like something to eat? A drink?” 

The thought of food reminds him that he hadn’t eaten since that morning - was it even the same day anymore? He didn’t know - but he declined anyway. 

“No thank you. I’m not hungry,” he said with a smile.  
“If you’re sure. Have a seat, please! You must be tired.” 

Roger nods gratefully. The house is small; the kitchen and living room merge into each other. He cannot see any other rooms, but that doesn’t matter. She begins to talk about the house; how long she’s been there, the bodies in the walls. 

That makes him freeze, but then he remembers.

_She’ll tell you a secret. Pretend that it doesn’t bother you._

They move on in conversation to his loved one. Roger relaxes a bit, talking about Freddie. He can’t remember if there was a rule in the instructions about discussing him. 

Eventually the woman gives him a guitar pick. It has Brian’s signature engraved on it, and his heart clenches at the thought of his friend. He hopes he’s doing okay. 

“Thank you, so much. You’ve been very kind to me.” 

The woman gives him a small smile in response. Roger says goodbye and leaves, breathing easier at the thought of being one step closer. 

*

Roger walks for a long time. He is sure that months have passed, or maybe just a week. He won’t know until he gets back home. Maybe it’s only been two hours on earth. 

He stops once to rest, but can’t seem to fall asleep. Every time he closes his eyes he thinks of Freddie and how lost he must be down here all alone. He checks his bag to see if everything is still there. His stomach growls at the sight of the food, but he doesn’t touch it. He keeps walking. 

He gets to the river eventually. He finds the woman like expected, and while he knows he shouldn’t he’s tempted to ask how she got there before him. 

“Hello,” he says. 

She gives him a small smile in return. He hands her the guitar pick and she gives him back the rose. She doesn’t speak, just gestures to the river. There’s a boat there now, which throws him for a moment but he gets on it anyway. The boat begins to move on its own accord. He tries to look around, but the fog is dense. He suddenly doesn’t want to know what else is out there. 

The boat hits the river bank, but the fog doesn’t clear. He almost turns to thank the captain of the boat, before remembering that it drove itself. The boat isn’t there anymore, anyway.

He walks alone for awhile. At some point he thinks he’ll never find anyone, until he almost runs into a wandering soul. It isn’t Freddie, but it’s someone so he must be somewhere close. 

Despite all of the people, the foggy place was eerily quiet. 

_The silence will be unbearable. Hum a song to yourself._

He walks for ages, humming _Love Of My Life_ to himself, hoping Freddie will soon come into view. 

*

It takes a long time. If Roger thought months had passed on earth before, he was positive of it now. There were moments where he was tempted to give up, moments where he thought he’d seen the singer. He wanted to cry every time it wasn’t him. 

He approaches a man sitting quietly on the ground. His face is blank and his eyes empty, but there is no doubt in Roger’s mind that it’s his Freddie. 

“Hello,” he says softly. He has to stop himself from saying his name. 

_Don’t give them your name and do not tell them theirs. They don’t trust you yet._

Freddie looks at him, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t remember him, Roger knows. He tries not to feel hurt. 

“How are you?” he asks. Dumb question. All he receives was a stare in response. 

Roger begins to talk; about music, his kids. Anything he can think of without directly telling Freddie who either of them really are. He doesn’t want to spook him. 

“You’re from up there.” 

It’s not a question. It’s the first words he’s said, and Roger can’t stop the tears. Freddie has this look of recognition on his face that tells Roger something is coming back to him. The singer is sprouting questions left and right and he has a hard time keeping up with the answers. But Roger doesn’t care. He missed this too much, the excited energy that came off Freddie in waves. It wasn’t exactly the same, that energy isn’t really there, but it was close enough to give him hope. 

“Are you cold?” Roger asks when Freddie starts shivering. 

He nods, and Roger sheds the jacket on him. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Then you’ll be cold,” Freddie says. 

“Don’t worry,” Roger replies. “I have another one. This one’ll be warm for you.”

Freddie accepts the coat with a small smile, the first one that he’d been given. Roger takes the other coat from his bag. 

There is silence for a moment or two. 

“Do I know you?”

Roger nods, a small, sad smile on his face. “Yes, you do. Your name is Freddie.” The smile on his face grows, and Roger tries not to cry again. 

He forgets for a moment the next step. 

_Hand them your their of importance. It will help them trust you._

Roger pulls the picture from his bag, suddenly worried that it won’t be enough. There is suddenly a plethora of items bouncing through his brain that he could have brought instead. He hesitantly hands Freddie the picture. 

He watches as the singer stares at the photo, brushing his hand across it lightly. 

“That’s us.” Freddie is crying now, and Roger has to look away to keep from doing the same. 

“What’s your name? How do we know each other?” he asks. 

“My name is Roger,” he replies. “We’re best friends.”

Freddie smiles again and Roger knows it’s time for them to leave. 

“Do you want to leave now?”

Freddie looks around him, unease crossing his face. Roger gets it; this place has become familiar for him. He’s sure it could be for him too, because he isn’t leaving without Freddie. 

Luckily he doesn’t have to. He reaches for Freddie’s hand to help him up and then laces their fingers together. His hand is ice cold, and Roger shivers but tries to ignore it. 

*

He leads the way as they begin the journey. They pass more lost souls. The silence begins to eat at him again, so he hums another song. 

The river comes into view much quicker than he thought it would. He’s sure it has to do with him being here, but it still frustrates him that there was no help when it came to finding Freddie. Whatever. At least this way they’ll likely get back sooner. 

The woman from earlier is there. She watches them with a blank stare. Roger pulls the rose from his bag and hands it to her. She hands back the guitar pick, which Roger then hands to Freddie. He watches Freddie examine it, before grasping it in his hand and looking back at Roger. 

They smile at each other before heading onto the boat. Freddie grips his arm when they start moving. His smile vanishes quickly; Roger can tell he doesn’t like this part. He doesn’t blame him. The boat is rocky enough, but it’s strange to ride in a boat driving itself. 

They continue walking when the boat lands. Freddie begins to stumble at some point. He hasn’t fallen yet, and Roger hopes he won’t. The walk after the river is as long as the walk there felt, and that just serves to remind him how hungry he is. He tries his best to ignore it. 

“Roger, wait.” 

He doesn’t listen, doesn’t here. His stomach is growling so loudly he’s sure Brian and John can hear it back home. 

“Rog, darling, please stop!” 

He freezes at the desperation in Freddie’s voice. His brain short circuits at the ‘darling.’

“Fred. I’m sorry - I just -” Roger wants to cry again, and he doesn’t exactly succeed in keeping the tears at bay.

“Don’t cry. Let's just rest a minute.” 

Roger nods, before sitting down on the floor. Freddie sits next to him, gripping his hand tightly. They don’t speak. It could be hours that they sit there, before he remembers that they are in the underworld, and not in their tiny shared flat back in 1970. 

Roger jumps up and pulls Freddie with him. He stumbles again, and they only make it a few feet before Freddie tumbles to the ground. He lays there flat on his face, and it would be funny if they had been in the studio and he’d just tripped on a cord. 

They weren’t in the studio, and it wasn’t funny. Freddie doesn’t move until Roger nudges him. When he does turn over there are tears streaming down his face. 

“Don’t cry, Fred. It’ll be fine. You can rest soon, love.” 

But Freddie doesn’t move. Roger nudges him again, before lifting him and wrapping him tightly against his chest. The singer has always been light, but now he feels weightless. At least his arms won’t get tired.

Roger begins to talk again, this time freely. He doesn’t dodge details that may spook him. Instead, he recounts stories that Freddie already knows, just needs reminding of. He talks about much everybody misses him; “the kids all ask for Uncle Freddie, you know”, “Bri and Deaky are going to be so excited to see you again.” 

He never responds, but that’s okay. He knows he’s listening. 

When Roger sees the woman’s house he nearly cries in relief. 

“We’re almost there, Fred. We’re almost there.”

They walk more. Freddie is silent against his chest. There’s a creeping feeling along his neck and he feels goosebumps raise along his skin. 

_Keep walking and don’t turn around. You’ll feel something watching you. Don’t turn around. Please._

He wants to turn around so badly, if only for reassurance that he is alone. He knows he isn’t. He begins to hum again, _Love Of My Life_. Freddie twitches in recognition at that. 

At some point he stops to wrap the blanket around Freddie. He is still shivering despite the extra layers. Roger keeps walking, hoping soon he’ll see the light he was promised in the instructions. 

He does, eventually. A smile graces his face again, and he begins a steady jog towards it. When he reaches it, he suddenly finds himself back in the fairy ring. He sees the food he left there, looking no different, and he’s struck with the thought that time may feel different down there. Not that it matters; he’s not going back down there for a long time.

He steps out of the ring and puts Freddie down. He’d been in a daze, and the sudden movement seems to have shocked him out of his. He lets out a panicked breath, before stopping and looking at Roger with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay, Freddie. Just take a deep breath. You’ll be fine. Put your hand here,” he says, placing his hand on his chest. “Just feel my heartbeat and breath with it.”

Freddie manages to regulate his breathing. He leans his head on Rogers shoulder, chest still heaving and eyes closing. 

“You need to eat first, love.”

He nods sleepily, and they can both hear his stomach growl. Freddie manages to scarf down a majority of the food, and Roger finishes what he doesn’t.

Freddie is still shivering, so Roger lays them both down and wraps the blanket around him. 

“Get under here with me,” Freddie says. 

He wants to shake his head, give all the warmth to him and just suck it up with his body heat.

“Please?” He gives Roger the biggest puppy dog eyes, and even if he doesn’t remember much of anything yet, he seems to know this will work. 

Roger crawls under and wraps himself tightly against Freddie. The older man relaxes, and Roger finds himself relaxing too. 

He’s home. They are both back on earth; Freddie is breathing and he feels like he can be okay again. 

There’s a smile building on his face again. He feels whole again. He has that missing piece in his heart lying next to him, and not lost in the underworld. Freddie’s breathing evens out, and Roger feels himself fall asleep too. He realizes how tired he really is, but finds he doesn’t really care. This was worth it. 

*

When he wakes, the sun is shining through the trees. Freddie isn’t awake yet, but that’s okay. He lets him rest until he wakes up on his own. 

Roger spends this time thinking. Of what would have been if he hadn’t done this. Would Brian give up? Would John leave him, go into hiding and spend his days with his wife and children and leave Roger alone? Would Roger have fallen off the deep end?

For all he knew, they would have been fine. Maybe they would have continued on with music, found another lead singer that didn’t replace Freddie, rather added something else, something new. 

They’ll never know, he figures. 

Roger is still lost in his head when Freddie wakes. He watches for a moment as the blonde stares at the forest above them. It is then that he realizes that he is in a forest. And that he doesn’t really remember the man next to him in the way he feels he should. 

“Good morning,” he says. 

Roger glances over and smiles brightly. 

“Morning. How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better. I don’t feel as tired, that’s for sure.”

Roger hums and nods. He glances around them, before wordlessly standing and reaching his hand out for Freddie.

“I think it’s time to go home, don’t you think?” 

Freddie smiles and nods, and even though he doesn’t really know where home is he’s excited to find out. 

_Step 90: Spend time with your loved one. Not everyone gets a second chance._

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments and kudos I need validation !!!


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